


revelations.

by epistretes



Series: Aquaphilia [6]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sex, F/M, Floor Sex, Intense feels, Mention of attempted suicide, Natasha shuts him up, Odin!Loki, OdinSleep, Revelations, Thor on Earth, Tony and his mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epistretes/pseuds/epistretes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lady Sif has her suspicions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	revelations.

It was a mixture of a tingle and an itch and she felt it almost every time her King came close to her. It had been barely noticeable at first but lately it had been getting stronger and stronger.

Today, she felt vaguely uncomfortable. She had recently noticed that he had a propensity to let his eyes linger on her when he seemed to think that she did not notice. At first she had explained it away by his watching her for signs of treachery; which did not sting as much as she thought it might. Lately, though, his eyes seemed to seek her out. It had been eighteen months since Frigga had departed for Valhalla with Loki and Thor had followed his heart to Midgard yet the days still greeted her with a cold bed.

She had even been entrusted with a mission to capture Lorelei and return her to the All-Father's judgement. She had been saddened to find no leave to catch up with Thor, but Lorelei was dangerous. Odin had hand-picked her for the role, citing his trust in her. After she had returned triumphant, she saw something in his eyes that resembled thinly-veiled desire. It unsettled her a little but she apportioned the oddness to some lingering effect of her prisoner. Once dumped back in the dungeons where she belonged, Lorelei's threat was gone. The woman's taunts had unsettled her more than she had let on, unwittingly highlighting the loss of Loki even though that had not been Lorelei's intent.

That night, she was summoned to dine with Odin to tell of her recapture of the escapee. It was just the two of the them other than the attendants and again, she felt slightly unsettled by the conversation despite nothing really seeming out of place. It was just a simple feeling in her gut.

As they finished and Sif got up to leave, she felt another slight shiver across the back of her neck. Odin never exuded cold outside of his manner on occasion. _Loki_ did, though.

Everything snapped suddenly in to place and the fog cleared. With a sudden, yet smooth movement, Odin-who-wasn't was prone on the floor beneath her with her naked blade at his throat.

"You will hang for this, never to see Valhalla." He warned, danger in his glittering eye.

"I swore to never allow treason," she bit back.

"Even Loki's actions in the end took him to Valhalla. What a disappointment you shall prove to your parents."

"Loki is not _in_ Valhalla. The game is up. What have you done with the real Odin?” she growled, pressing her blade tighter to his throat and she was certain she saw some negligible magical flicker.

“He isn’t dead, though he should be,” the not-Odin laughed, drawing a little trickle of red blood from where the laugh nicked her blade but she did not move it back.

“Why, Loki? Why would you do this?” she asked and his visage flickered back to his own. He looked drawn, gaunt even, but _alive_. It took all of her resolve to not choke out a sob right there as she looked at him, _he was really there_. She was not slowly losing her mind. "Where is Odin Allfather?" 

"Resting. He is in the Odinsleep where I put him." 

"Where?" She demanded again, clinging to her anger to prevent her relief flooding her.

"In the vault, where the Destroyer once slumbered."

"I would see him, to know you are not spinning more lies, Silvertongue." She demanded of him, trying to keep him where he belonged - as a prisoner in her power - and not as her former lover, pinned to the floor between her thighs.

"So desperate to see your King and yet he lays beneath you now." Loki taunted and she hardened her eyes to him.

"He is not. A man I was thought that I once knew lays there now, but his actions have proved me so wrong."

"Does it sting?" He hissed at her, trying to change the subject and turn the tide. "Does it burn to know that you have lain with a monster?"

"No, the only hurt you gave me was by not coming to me. You burned me by shutting me out, you froze me when I watched you let go and fall. I was nearly broken by knowing that you did not even trust me enough to tell me the truth." Her sword pressed harder to his throat. "But I did not break. Your cold tempered my steel and forged it harder. You are no monster, Loki, but your recent actions have _been_ monstrous. Your jötunn heritage does not define you, but your actions will."

"You were there?" For the first time, Loki sounded unsure and concerned and she was unsure if he had even heard her other words let alone heeded them.

"I could not reach you in time. I saw you let go. I saw the Void swallow you and I believed you dead. I did not then know the cause of your pain, but I finally understood the depth of it." She admitted.

"I wanted to die that day," he admitted and her insides froze at his admission. "I thought I would."

"Don't ever do that to me again." She demanded, unsure of how to respond to such a deep, troubling confession and threw aside her sword with a clatter. If she had no words, she would use her actions. She claimed his lips with a fierce determination, pouring all of her hurt, her relief and her raging anger in to it. He reciprocated almost instantly, lifting his hands and clinging to her with no small amount of determination. Her core warmed at the touch, the delight of being given one more chance... she broke the kiss and he blinked up at her in bewildered amazement.

"I will need to place you under arrest. I am the Lady Sif, I must do my duty."

"What about just Sif?" He asked quietly and she paused in thought.

"Just Sif." She had not thought of herself as two halves of a whole within her own body since that hunting trip and their riverside pledge. "Just Sif is still yours. Lady Sif is no longer yours. Once I stand, you will be placed under arrest."

"Then I don't want you to stand up." His reply seemed to understand that his actions had broken what they had once had and yet the manipulativeness of it irked her even as she gave in to it.

"I'm going to regret this..." she murmured as she allowed Sif to override Lady Sif as she had done so many years ago and kissed him again. He drew her in and kissed her as if he needed it as much as breathing. 

If she was going to have to do her duty and consign him to the fate his own hands had wrought, she reserved the right to say goodbye. He had been ripped from her twice without the chance, she would not toss aside the third. His long, cool fingers slowly drew her clothing from her and she did not move to stop him. Each kiss, each caress was a worshipful goodbye and as they steadily removed each item of clothing, it felt more final.

Finally, when she was fully nude, she allowed him to roll them over and settle between her legs. She gave him a very quick but fierce look that told him if he tried to escape, injure her or both; she would kill him once and for all. A brief spell that she assumed was a silencer ripped from his fingers before he slid them reverently inside of her. She could feel every part of his fingers inside her. She had rarely indulged herself after she had believed him deceased the second time, unable to reconcile his loss for many months. Now, she allowed herself to enjoy this snatched moment.

His tongue soon joined his fingers and she squirmed a little with the pleasure that he was giving her. Each touch and lick was precise, he had certainly not forgotten her in their time apart. It seemed like he was deliberately honing in on exactly where she wanted him. As well as giving her an explanation, an apology with his body as they could not seem to manage it with words. She almost did not want to hear it that way, he was too good and twisting truths and using them to appear to advantage and she must not allow her relief at his being alive to cloud her judgement further. She had ever stripped him down to truths and his body had never lied to her the way his words had.

As she pressed her palms to the floor to stop herself from crying out with pleasure from his attentions, he lapped up her release. Before she had even begun to come down, he pressed inside and filled her so perfectly and neatly. He had always seemed to have been made to connect with her like this and she tried to focus on the fluttery feelings of her walls riding out the last of her orgasm around him and not the tragedy that had ripped them apart and would again once they had finished copulating.

He kissed her passionately and she arched in to him. When he twitched inside her, they were silently defiant in the face of duty. He twitched again and she shifted her hips. Their kisses became less fluttery and more passionate and he twitched again, swelling to full hardness. A furtive thrust was followed by a more determined one and then another. His whispered name spilled from her lips and he made a strangled, cut-off noise between the slaps of their flesh coming together.

He slid his arms beneath her back and gripped her shoulders as they fucked furiously on the hard floor, heedless of the discomfort caused. Her name came from him in gasped passionate cries and she hoped most fervently that his silencing spell was working. They both could tell how much the other had missed them, how much the other still desired them and how much they both longed for their connection once again. The world around them might not accept them, they might not be able to accept each other in the eyes of the Nine Realms, but here and now, it was just them. Their bodies, their flesh, their feelings and they were entwined and connected more intimately than any knew. There was nothing gentle about it as they tried to take in as much of each other as they could. She welcomed the roughness, the desperation and need as they slammed their bodies together as fast and as hard as they could.

It all culminated too soon. She was not yet ready to let go, but as she crashed in to her second orgasm, he groaned her name reverentially as he stiffened then relaxed with his release. She could feel him pulsing himself in to her and she grabbed his pale, taught buttocks as they clenched with his orgasm and dug her nails in ruthlessly. The cry he gave only spurred her on to dig harder and she covered his lips with her own before they were both spent and sagged back on to the hard floor as though it were the softest mattress.

They sank in to desperate kissing, alternating with soft and sweet caresses and butterfly-light presses of their lips and fingers. They both knew that the moment he pulled from her body, they would stand, she would dress and she would arrest him. They also both knew that he would allow her to do it - he had nowhere else to go that would harbour the fallen prince and risk the wrath of Odin and his armies. It seemed that the moment she took him under her power, this, _them_ was over forever.

They had no idea of how much or how little time passed, so wrapped up in one another and Sif’s eyes fluttered open as she felt him twitch back to life inside of her. He clearly noticed it too but still refused to pull free and she drew her legs in tighter to his buttocks to prevent him from doing so anyway. His breath tickled her ear and she tilted her head to the side as he drew the lobe in to his mouth and nibbled on it, his erection giving another twitch and swelling back to hardness nestled in the warmth of her body. He shifted his hips and moaned in to her ear as he reached full hardness again and he drew back and pushed in gently. He repeated it and she moaned his name to the silence-charmed air of the King’s bedchamber.

As they thrust together, as they kissed, she realised that he was being possibly more gentle with her than ever before. It threatened to break her heart and she gripped his backside to drive him even deeper, to grind right up against her cervix. The small bites of pain only enhanced the bittersweet feelings between them. He moaned her name in her ear again and she nibbled his neck in return. As he pushed in to her, she thrust against him and a he pulled back, she sighed with pleasure.

Each stroke was echoed in her heart, it was almost frightening how much she had missed this, missed him. Their lips met and their tongues twined together again as they shifted together. She briefly wondered if Loki’s penchant for the dramatic was rubbing off on her, but the thought was lost when he dropped his lips to her breasts. He shuddered and gasped against her and she drew her knees up higher to force him as deep as he could go as he emptied himself completely inside of her. She shifted slightly and used her powerful pelvic muscles to coax more from him as she kissed him breathless to cover any noise from escaping. He finally spilled his last and he sank bonelessly in to her and tried to catch his breath.

"You have no idea what it cost me to not do that for so long," he chuckled as soon as he could speak again and she glared at him.

"Shut up, Loki." He took her warning and kissed her instead. They lay there, warm, sated and with slightly sore buttocks on her side and knees on his entangled with each other. Neither wanted to move or speak, it was too apparent to both that this was goodbye. This was the end.

When the floor began to remind them that it was both cold and hard, they regretfully separated and Sif stood and turned from him as she put on her clothing. When she turned back to him, he offered her his hands to bind and she pulled a curtain cord from the window draperies and did so.

“Loki, Prince of the Realm, I hereby place you under arrest for high treason,” she intoned, her voice flat and without passion.

“As you wish, Lady Sif.” The titles were back, what they had been was gone, what had just happened on this floor never happened.  
The shock and clamour as the Lady Sif pulled the thought-dead Prince Loki through the halls of the citadel should have pierced her, but they only washed over her instead. Her mind was on the prisoner, relief that he was alive and saddened that they were still sundered. At least this time she had been able to say goodbye.

She took him and a dozen Einherjar to the Vault where they discovered Odin behind the very wall that once kept the Destroyer ready for the summons from Gungnir. He was safe and in the Odinsleep as Loki had told her. She gave instruction to transport their King to the Healing Rooms and to Eir to ensure that he had suffered no ill effects from not being in his own bower, protected by his golden shimmering dome as he ought.

“Take the prisoner to the dungeons, his old room should suffice” she ordered.

“No escort?” Loki teased.

“I have a mission, I have to return the true heir to his throne,” Sif bit back and though the words were harsh, they both knew that she had to say it for appearances sake. She could almost still feel him inside her as she spoke and felt like a hypocrite, but he had placed her in this situation. “Take him away.”

As they headed to the dungeons with her lover, she turned her footsteps to the Bifröst and her brother.

“Loki has been revealed. I wonder how he evaded my sight for so long and kept our King concealed from me,” he mused whens he stepped in to the Observatory.

“We may never know. Send me to Thor.” No more words were passed between the half-siblings and she allowed the rainbow lights to take hold of her and she stood atop the former Stark Tower, now Avengers Tower in New York. Here was where Loki had been defeated in his mad schemes and here was where she would have to break it to Thor that his brother had lied - again. That he was alive and well and returned to the dungeons. The runic markings of the Bifröst were burned in to the roof below her but she cared not. An alarm went off and Sif raised her shield but not her sword. Mortals with what she had learned were termed ‘firearms’ swarmed around her. She ignored them, their puny bullets could not harm her.

“I am the Lady Sif of Asgard. Bring me Prince Thor of Asgard!” She commanded and one of them hurried away. Before long, the doors opened again and Thor came hurrying out in a panic, with a man Thor had described to her as Steve Rogers, known as Captain America, a man in a suit of red painted iron and a woman who Sif perceived to likely be the most dangerous of them all in a simple black catsuit.

“Sif!” Thor raced towards her and she lowered her shield, but raised her hand to stop him giving her the bearhug that it looked like he was planning to do.

“What is wrong? Is my father…”

“Thor, please. This would be better if you were seated. Your father is okay.” She added the last bit just to make sure he did not have more of a shock.

“Come inside,” he said and the group made their way inside. Sif sat down on a sofa and decided that delaying the news just to insist those watching leave. Thor would likely only go and tell them the news anyway so it saved time. She looked around at them a little warily, then turned her gaze to Thor as he sat, looking nervous.

“Odin Allfather has fallen in to the Odinsleep. He is in the Healing Rooms with Healer Eir watching over him.” She started, watching Thor’s face fall.

“The Odinsleep? He did not seem tired when we last spoke.” Thor mused. “He seemed old, yet hearty.”

“Thor, there is something else.”

“I cannot return just yet,” Thor interrupted “Jane Foster has come across an interest-”

“Loki is alive.” It was like she had used a spell to suck all noise from the room. Everyone around her froze and then after a long moment, something smashed. It turned out to be the glass in Thor’s hand and the liquid mingled with his blood as it dribbled on the floor.

“Loki?”

“Is alive. He put your father in to the Odinsleep. I discovered his deception this night.” If anything, the flicker of sympathy that crossed his features was the worst part. “You must return, your mortal can wait. We have no one to take the throne or pass judgement on Loki unless you return.”

“How is he alive? Thor said he was dead.” Rogers cut in.

“I do not know, it seems likely that he used an illusion, he is known for such tricks.”

“If you want, I can inform Doctor Foster that you must leave,” the woman cut in. 

“I should tell her myself.”

“There is little time.”

“Hey, here is an idea,” cut in the Man of Iron (although his face-guard was up now) “why don’t you head off and deal with your 9-lives crazy little brother and we tell your lady love where you have gone and you come back and visit soon?”

“That may not be for some time, we do not know how long the Odinsleep will last for. He has not been under his regenerative dome,” Sif put in, watching Thor’s face carefully.

“I cannot shoulder the burden of his punishment, Sif,” Thor beseeched her.

“Nor can I. You alone can wield Gungnir and sit Hliðskjálf.”

“Now you sound like you are talking about Ikea furniture,” the suit-clad man scoffed, to which Thor levelled a glare at him but it went over Sif’s head.

“Then I shall go. Let me speak to Jane first and then I will meet you to travel the Bifröst.”

“Do not be long.” She warned.

Sif was distracted, but save the Man of Iron who was apparently named ‘Tony’, she found that the mortals Thor had chosen to spend time with were actually pleasant. Tony’s constant references to Loki’s insanity and how he needed to be put down and hard were irritating her. A sharp word from the woman shut him up though and Sif got the distinct impression that she had at least figured out that Sif was not wholly set against Loki, if not more. Finally, Thor was ready and he seemed to have accepted the reality and his charge both.

They left the room and returned to the Bifröst site and she called for her brother. In a rush and whirl of colour they had returned. Everything after that seemed a blur and Thor dismissed her so that she could get some rest. It seemed counterproductive because she could not sleep anyway, the recovered Loki on her mind. A hundred things seemed to be falling in to place, now that she could think on them properly. The way he had promoted her to keep her near, the way she had been sent on the most important missions like recapturing Lorelei. Then her mind filled with the way they had given in despite everything, common sense included, screaming at them not to. Just as she finally drifted off with the sun beginning to rise, she did not notice Thor come in and check on her, his face holding a sad and guilty expression.

The next days were torture and they stretched in to weeks. Thor had deferred Loki’s punishment until Odin awoke stating that he was too emotionally compromised to make the decision. It was her duty for watching over Odin when it happened. Eir moved over to do her daily checks when the soul forge flared for no apparent reason.

“He is not … we are not losing him, are we?” Sif asked, fearfully.

“No, Lady Sif, might I ask you to get up on here?” Eir requested indicating the one beside Odin’s and, confused, Sif complied. The gold shimmering light came on and then it centered over her abdomen with what was, unmistakably, a foetus.

“Oh...dear.”


End file.
